missing mommy - call your mother

Today a co-worker excused himself to call his mother.  I commented that he was lucky that he could talk to her, as my own mother passed away a few years ago.  That caused me to realize that it would be so nice to be able to have a conversation with her.  There are many questions that I have thought of in the years since her passing, and there is no one left to answer any of them.....  it would actually take going back quite a few years in her life to a time when she may have known all of the answers I would like to have.  She had Alzheimer's Disease.  Her memories were best of events that occurred longer ago, in her youth.... so that, by the time I did ask her some questions her only answer could be "I don't know".  
But, since her passing I have more questions about so many things...... a surgery she had when I was 7 years old, my dad's digestive issues (he passed away decades ago).  Questions about my mother's siblings, all of whom passed away before her.  Questions about my grandparents, all of whom died before I was born.  Questions about trips we took, family friends..........

My friends, if there is anything you wonder about, and you have the chance --ask your parents soon!! Do not wait until it is too late.    (I sincerely hope that you have an easy relationship with your parents.)

Call your mother!!!

I am not into sports....

so, I do have an idea why I am not into sports.  I mean not. at. all.  I avoid sports.  Unless I can watch one of my nephews, any one of them, play whichever sport each of them plays.

anyway, it goes back to grade school.  For one thing, the gym teacher played favorites.  He almost always chose the same two kids as the team captains.  One boy and one girl, let's call them Shawn and Carrie.  Shawn and Carrie were extremely competitive.  They could spend 20 minutes arguing about whether the girls or the boys were better at any given sport.

from the beginning of class, once Carrie and Shawn were appointed team captains, I would just stand at the back of the group, with my friend (I will call her Penny).  Penny and I learned, in short order, that we would be chosen last.  Depending on how many kids were present we could even figure out which team each of us would probably end up being recruited to.  We were always the last two chosen, always.

Now, Carrie and Shawn did not start arguing immediately.  No. They waited until there was a close call, or they could challenge a call.  At some point during the game they would find an excuse to go at it.  And Penny and I would then get together and sit down to wait.  The game would be interrupted for several minutes at least, while Shawn and Carrie were at each other's throat,.... "girls are better", "no, boys are better".....  so very predictable, boring, and they sucked all the fun out of every thing we did.

(If you knew me in grade school, then you probably know exactly what I am talking about.)

Add to that the fact that we almost never played the sports that I enjoyed and was good at, like floor hockey, or kickball.  What can I say,... and don't even get me started on square dancing.  I never liked being forced to do anything, and I never, ever, enjoyed square dancing.  Not that I don't like to dance, but square dancing? seriously? there's a skill I will never have need for in my life,....

I do understand sports.  I mean I know how to tell which team is supposed to go in a specific direction to score their points,.... I have a reasonable understanding of baseball.  I simply don't see the point to any of it.


Take me to the pool hall, that is something I enjoy and would like to do more.  Or miniature golf, I am actually quite good at that.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it!

farewell Peggy Olson....

Peggy Olson.

A hero for the modern woman.  She reminds me of a few women I know who entered the working world –a working world once populated almost exclusively by men.  Peggy Olson embodies a pioneer of workplace equality.  She put up with a lot of nonsense perpetrated by her male co-workers.  But Peggy Olson persisted and she made it!  And she opened the door for other women in the workplace.  I will miss you, Peggy Olson.

Initially I did not watch Mad Men.  I liked the idea of the show, but for reasons I can no longer recall, I did not tune in.  I started to watch Mad Men in the fifth season of the show…. an episode titled “At the Codfish Ball”  (S5E7), about the strained relationships between parents and children, and between people in general.  I was intrigued enough about little Sally Draper, that I continued to tune in week after week, and watched marathon showings of Mad Men, trying to catch up.  Finally, in preparation of the final episodes, AMC showed the entire series in 3 or 4 episode segments on Sunday mornings, and I have been able to see the entire story.  Those are some crazy Mad Men, and women!

I will miss every one of them, Don Draper, Joan Holloway, Roger Sterling, Peggy Olson, Sally Draper, and Ken Cosgrove –all of whom I like.  I will miss Betty Draper Francis, Pete Campbell, Megan Draper (she should get her teeth fixed!),  Stan Rizzo, and Paul Kinsey –none of whom I like in any way.  I already miss Lane Pryce and Bert Cooper.

I will miss the drama.  I will miss the intrigue of the Don Draper character.  Most of all I will miss Peggy Olson, the endearing, aggravating, wonderful “modern woman”.

The final episodes have only begun, we have no idea where these few episodes will lead or leave off…. but already I am wistful and a little sentimental about saying a final “farewell” to the idea of watching Mad Men forever.

iPhone,...aggravation....

My Samsung Galaxy S3 screen got cracked and stopped working.  So,... I have been stuck with an iPhone for the time being.  I told my boss that I am learning Chinese.  I have never been able to figure these rotten apple devices.  I spent the better part of a day with a Mac once,.... so foreign to a PC user.  I can do anything with/on a PC or pc compatible device,.... anything.
This thing has a different phone number --what a pain in the eema!  My entire life was on that frigging phone!!  I lost my calendar, my notes, lists,... a ton of data!

The dang iPhone 4S is so small, it would fit inside of my Galaxy S3!  I had a tough time typing anything on the S3, this is worse!  very aggravating.  And, the iPhone was placed on my desk with no charger, so I could not get much done over the weekend either.

the iPhone sucks for Facebook too.  this is a miserable experience.

Things generational and mad men....

A few days ago a friend posted something on Facebook about her Dad having to answer the telephone, he promptly told the caller, “hold on while I get my wife.”  He did not want to talk on the telephone.

My Dad would not answer the phone! I may have seen him answer the phone one time in 10 years, ONLY because my mother was upstairs and the only phone in that house was on the ground floor. It was the ONLY time I ever saw him talk on the phone.

I think that was what I refer to as “generational”.  In my Dad’s era answering the telephone was part of the wife’s job.  There was never any doubt that my mother was not a “housewife” but a home-maker and that was her job.  Now that could be due to the fact that my mother worked for my father in the capacity of childcare-giver and housekeeper.  Taking care of the house was her job and that did not change when they decided to marry, nor should it have changed.  But that was the era; it was generational. 

The past few weeks I have been watching the AMC series Mad Men, a program about men in the advertising business in the early 1960’s, and about life in general in that era.  I have thought a good bit about things being generational and how much the world has changed since I was a child.

My father worked, he raised hybrid carnations in greenhouses, and chrysanthemums in the fields out back.  It was similar to being a farmer, in that we lived right there, where the greenhouses were located, like many, many families of flower growers (also known as florists). My father worked outside of the home, and my mother worked inside of the home.  In that era most mothers worked in the home, taking care of everything from child rearing to cooking meals to paying the household bills.

So, much like Don Draper’s wife Betty, my friends mothers, my aunts, the majority of women in that generation were home-makers.  The father’s, like Don, worked outside the home and practically had whole other lives out in the world.

On the other side of the generational divide, I have never been solely a home-maker.  I have always had to work outside of the home, or I would not even have a home.  For as long as I have been in the workforce it seems like there are more women workers than men –based on the industries I have worked in: retail for many years and then office work for more years.

If you watch Mad Men, watch Peggy, she is the type of woman who were at the forefront of feminism without realizing that fact.  The part I find most interesting is that, while Peggy was considered to be a secretary, she was given advertising assignments for products that the men were extremely uncomfortable dealing with. It is interesting to observe the different take on such products from the uptight men versus the young woman, Peggy, who is obviously hiding the fact that she is more savvy about the world than most of her peers.

And, getting back to my parents, they were actually of different generations themselves, my father being 17 years older than my mother.  My father never flew in an airplane, my mother became rather well-traveled in the second half of her life, flying at least annually for many years.  Maybe that was generational and maybe it was just that my mother’s idea of adventure was so much broader than my father’s.

Anyway, I like to watch people and observe the generational differences.  Even those differences between myself and co-workers who are only a few years old than I am.

seize the adventure!

Today I attended a meetup of some people from the town where I grew up.  Other than some Facebook contact these people were all strangers to me.  Yes, I did know a few of the last names, but for all intents and purposes I had never actually met any of them before in person.

I had made a point of reminding some other former Des Plaines residents of this meeting – people I do know in person from my youth.  These folks replied to me that they did not initially want to attend today’s meeting because they thought that “no one I know will be there.”

This is a type of thinking that I do not understand.  We all grew up, or spent a portion of our formative years, in the same town.  Our home town.  So many years have gone by, and personally, I want to meet  and talk with anyone from my home town, anyone at all.  There were folks from age 44 to age 84 at the meetup.  It sure would have been nice if more people had attended.

Why would you be afraid to meet someone new, who happened to be from your home town?  Not only that, but how delightful to meet someone of an older age who knows so much of the history of the area!

As I have gotten older I have it more and more delightful to meet and chat with people who were previously strangers to me.  What a wonderful wealth of ideas, beliefs, likes, and dislikes.  The variety of each of us being unique and the thrill of discovering that there are so many people in the world who like the same things, believe in the same things! And to learn of all the new and different possibilities in this magical life we have the privilege to experience.

Do not be afraid to talk to strangers in a group situation! Especially if you have something in common, like your home town!

Expand your horizons, widen the friend base, the way the world is now days is it not better to have a wider circle of friends?

This is the adventure of life!

Writer brain (1)

This has to do with where your imagination can go if you think too much and are a fan of television programs like Criminal Minds.

A couple of years ago I lived in a second floor apartment, with a door at ground level, at the bottom of a staircase.  There was a totally useless peephole in the door, could not see a darn thing through it. So,.... one day my doorbell rang.  I am not normally one to even answer the door.  If I don't know you are coming over, well, to be blunt, if you can't call ahead don't bother to ring my doorbell.  I am either not home or not dressed for company or even door answering for that matter. But I digress,...

My doorbell rang.  I was still wearing my work clothing.  I opened the door to see who it was.  There, on my doorstep, was a man with long windblown hair, bearded, blue jeans, t-shirt,... anyway, he was holding a note in his hand, showing it to me.  The note read, "My name is Mike. I live in the apartment below yours.  I am deaf.  I want you to know that I have device that allows me to watch television and "feel" the sound.  It may be very loud, so here is my phone number, so that you can text me if the loud noise is bothering you."  Ok.  I spoke slowly and looked directly at him, and said, "ok. thank you."  He said, "ok." in the guttural tones of a deaf person and turned to go.  Ok, whatever, I am good with this.
until......

I start thinking about this, in a Criminal Minds kind of way.....
Maybe this stranger really does not live in the apartment below mine.  Maybe he is some kind of serial killer, and he is trying to be certain that I am a woman, living alone in this apartment, and that I will just open my door any time the doorbell rings. 
Oh no!! He's staking out the complex and choosing victims!  It's right out of an episode of Criminal Minds,...or maybe it was CSI, or Law & Order,....
I just opened my door, like some kind of idiot just asking to be a victim! The kind of people I yell at in the television programs! 

This scraggly looking guy is going to stake out the building now, and watch for me to come home and ring my doorbell!!  Is he a rapist, or an ax-murderer?  a cannibal?  (fava beans and chianti.....)

Yes, my imagination can go wild.... apparently that is called 'writer's brain'.